Not In Kansas Anymore
by Star-Born Eternal
Summary: Samus finds the Forward Unto Dawn adrift in the outer reaches of UNSC space. She quickly realizes that she's not in her own universe anymore and becomes entangled in ONI's plans. Will she survive to make it back home? Some adult language. I do not own either. Post-Fusion Post Halo-3
1. Awakening

The _Forward Unto Dawn _drifted silently through the frozen black of space. To all others, it was a dead, depleted, half-hulk with barely enough energy to sustain a looping distress call and the single active cryogenic unit. However the illusion of a piece of space junk was a false one. It carried two survivors, one in a sleep so deep that he was on the brink of death. The other, an AI, was in hibernation to conserve the ship's power supply, though she checked in on the Chief often to make sure he was still okay. "Hibernation" was really a very loose term to describe the sleep cycles of AIs. They really never stopped thinking, never stopped working. And that was how they died.

Cortana felt the strain of four years alone beginning to weigh on her, along with so much else that she'd gone through with the Chief. She knew she was at the end of her life. She would have to be "retired" soon, lest rampancy pull her apart. She could feel it coming, like a thousand thoughts tossed together, overwhelming her, scrambling her thought processes, and she was afraid. _Are AIs supposed to feel this way? _

One of the deck sensors detected movement. _What? _It was a single heat signature, consistent with human body temperature but varying slightly, a little higher than normal. She wanted a picture of the intruder, but none of the cameras were working. _Damn. _She appeared on the cryo-deck, where Master Chief was sleeping. Her hand hovered over the hologram marked ACTIVATE. A touch would wake him. Should she? Cortana bit her lip, hesitant. The sound of boots on the deck alarmed her, and she looked around. _Someone's coming. Hide. _Her hologram winked out of existence.

_Where am I? This is not a Galactic Federation vessel. Its design is unlike anything I have ever seen. _I stalk the halls of the ship, alert, ready for anything. My visor picks up a thermal signature. Cold, but marginally warmer than anything else around here. _A survivor, perhaps? _I move cautiously, aware the ship is unstable. The thermal signature does not move. Eventually I enter a deck with a low ceiling. Its walls are lined with sealed tubes, but the deck is otherwise bare, besides a plinth rising from the floor. I approach the plinth, wary, and notice a small chip sticking out of the side. I pull the chip out and stow it. _Maybe I can find some use for it. _The plinth's little blue ball diminishes, but does not vanish. Curious, but ever careful, I tap the ball. It flattens and widens into a rectangular display with many representations of the tube-like storage units. I brush the screen sideways, and the hologram scrolls through until I reach one that is different from the others. It portrays a man inside one of the tubes, along with vital readouts. Hmm. Curiouser and curiouser. He appears to have body armor. Is he a bounty hunter? And more importantly, should I wake him? He could be dangerous, but this ship's power is failing. He will die, surely, if I leave him here, and I will never find my answers. I suppose…I suppose I can always stun him if necessary. Bring him back to my ship, question him there. Okay. I'm ready for this.

I tap the holo marked ACTIVATE and its status changes. It now reads ACTIVE. I back away from the pedestal, cannon raised. One of the tubes defrosts slowly, and I can see the figure inside. He wears dark green battle-scarred armor complete with mirrored helmet. He stirs, starts, slams his hands against the inside of the tube.

"Cortana?" he asks, his voice muffled. I say nothing, every muscle tensed. _If you want to hit him, now's the time. Do it while he's disoriented. _Apparently he can't see me quite yet, and I don't have a clear shot. He reaches up, pulls something, and then smashes the lid of the tube across the room.

_Shit. Didn't see that coming. _

The Master Chief clambered out of the tube, then spotted the armored thing in the corner. He had a split second to take in what was obviously a cannon pointed at him. He rolled and felt a bolt of energy whizz over his head. His hands found a busted piece of something, and he threw it. The projectile caught the thing in the middle, but it skated off. The air crackled where the metal shard had hit. This thing had energy shielding. Interesting. It was obviously humanoid, but it was unlike anything he'd ever seen. It certainly wasn't another Spartan. The thing's armor was way too bright to be military-issue, a bright orange and yellow and red, and it wasn't styled like MJOLNIR armor either. It would look almost comical on the figure were it not for the wide-mouthed, deadly serious silver-green cannon that was fused to one arm. The creature took aim and fired again. He barely dodged the shot, rolled back against a broken pipe. _Dodge this, _He thought, and heaved the pipe at the alien-human. The thing squatted and rolled itself into an orange ball. _What the…?_ The pipe clattered behind it, a clean miss. Shocked by this foreign tactic, he had little time to react as the thing unrolled, an energy charge primed. The blast grazed his suit, draining his shields. The grating noise of the depleted-shield alarm began going off, filling his helmet with insistent noise.

He moved forward in a blur of motion, crossing the empty deck spacing in less than a quarter-second, his muscles straining. He couldn't win in a ranged standoff, so he'd have to even the odds. His hand snapped out, lightning-quick, to grab his opponent, but it was already gone, darting away with impossible agility. He spun to face it. It stared back at him, its weapon slightly lowered. Its helmet was cocked to the side, interested perhaps? He didn't give it the time to process whatever it was thinking and lashed out. Problem was, his target disappeared, and his fist hit only empty air.

He spun, but not fast enough. An explosion blew him off his feet, throwing him into the bulkhead. His head slammed backward, his ears ringing, partially blinded. He wondered why he wasn't dead. Hadn't the thing hit him with a grenade? A shadowy form bent over him.

"Nighty night." The thing said, raising its ungodly large cannon to his head. There was a flash of blinding light, and he sank into darkness.


	2. New Enemies

John woke up with a headache. The instant he regained consciousness, he knew something was wrong before he even opened his eyes. His helmet was missing. He opened his eyes and looked around. There was his helmet, sitting on the opposite side of the cabin, just as he had expected. He tried to get up, but something held him back. He'd been restrained, shackled to the bed. He tested his bonds. They were too strong to break out of easily. His forehead stung, though from what he could tell, his captor had bandaged it. Undoubtedly his captor was watching him carefully, though he didn't think those who had taken him knew quite who they had caught yet.

He pulled against his cuffs. The wrist-bands were very strong indeed, but the chain was the weakest point. If he created enough torque he could bend and break them. He twisted again, more vigorously, and felt the metal start to give. He was preparing for a third pull when a shadow fell across him.

"Awake, are we?" The voice was firm and tough, a no-nonsense sort of tone. The humanoid with outlandish armor was back, minus the arm-cannon. The visor of its helmet was polarized so that he couldn't see its face.

"Where'd your cannon go?"

"I don't need it right now, and it's too bulky to wear around the ship."

"Who are you?"

"Name's Samus Aran. Bounty hunter by trade. You?"

He refused to respond, looking up at the ceiling, and instead asked a question of his own.

"Why am I not dead?"

"Good question. I hit you with a concussion missile. Works the same as a flash-bang, but the effect is more localized. That was the explosion you felt."

"So, what? Are you with the Insurrectionists?"

"Insurrectionists?" The humanoid snorted derisively. "Do you honestly think that any ragtag group of rebels has enough cash in their collective pockets to hire me?"

"Then who put the price on my head?"

"Relax. You don't have a price on your head."

"Then why take me at all?"

"Look, I don't want cash or infamy. All I want is a few answers and then I'll let you loose. Warrior's word on it."

"Then answer my question before I answer yours. Where did you get your armor?"

"It was made for me by the Chozo."

"_Who?_"

"The Cho-zo." Samus broke the word into short syllables. As if enunciating would make him understand who the Chozo were. He'd never heard of them in his life. An obscure group of Elites perhaps?

"Where exactly were you born?"

"K2L, but I was raised on Zebes."

The Chief's eyes narrowed.

The humanoid looked agitated, reading his expression correctly. Apparently this interrogation wasn't going at all the way it had planned.

"What do you mean? Where am I?"

"Cortana can tell you that. If she's willing to cooperate with you. I'm not sure I know. I've been asleep for a long time."

"I rescued no other survivors." Samus told him. "Adam, where am I?" The bounty hunter asked the room at large.

"Exact location unknown," a disembodied voice responded. "None of the surrounding planets are in the computer. System-wide scan indicates we're somewhere in the Milky Way."

"I'm supposed to be headed for the capital right now! What happened?"

"Well, to be certain, I don't really know. It could be that the explosion from the BSL research station destabilized the matter of space, causing an interdimensional tear."

"What are the odds of that?"

"Astronomically low. But it could happen."

"So…I'm in another…universe?"

"Not another universe, no. A parallel dimension."

The Chief smiled grimly.

I pace before my captive, agitated, ignoring his grimacing smile. _No, no, NO! This is all wrong! I'm supposed to be tracking bounties in the Outer Rim, not begging for information on how to survive from this person I've caught!_ I glance at him. He is just lying there, totally at his ease, blank- faced_._

I stop pacing, grab a chair, and collapse into it, propping my arms on the back. My captive looks at me funny.

"So. I've decided to let you live for now. On one condition."

"And that would be…?"

"I need information. Star maps, cities, anything you can give me. Preferably any cash you can spare as well. Just give me what I need, and you'll never hear from me again."

"Let me up. Then we'll talk."

No. Letting the giant of a man up isn't an option. He's dangerous, this much I know. Unless… I pause for a second.

"Tell you what: I'll think about it and we'll talk in the morning." I stride over to a medical kit, pull out a syringe marked with blue, a wad of gauze, a roll of medical tape, and an alcohol wipe. Soldier one-one-seven watches me with an unreadable expression, apparently calm.

I lean over him and peel back the gauze taped to his forehead first. His wound has partially stopped bleeding, but I clean it up anyway. If it stings, he apparently doesn't want to give me the satisfaction of letting me know he's in pain, not that I take pleasure from that sort of thing. I toss the used bandage in the recycler, then pop the sterile cap off the syringe. He watches calmly as ever, totally unafraid, but raises an eyebrow, questioning.

"It's just a sedative. I need rest same as you, and I can't have you running all over my ship. I don't much fancy waking up with a hole through my head. Sorry, but until I can think it over, you're not going anywhere."

He doesn't resist as I jab him with the needle, but gives me a controlled glare that burns like raw Phazon. I look away and don't look back until I've pulled the needle free.

"You'll sleep for a few hours and wake up perfectly fine."

His glare intensifies, then dies away as the drug takes effect, his eyes closing.I wait until I'm sure he's asleep, then stand. I go to the rear of the cabin, pull out a locked box, and withdraw something from inside. The object resembles a large hypodermic with an unusually thick needle. I receive a small number of these from the Galactic Federation each year, along with a very short list of request bounties and a goodly amount of Yire deposited in my account. Usually the request bounties are dangerous criminals that the Federation has failed to catch or can't get close enough to. I go after these high-price bounties, capture them, and tag them so the Federation can keep a future eye on them and track their movements. The tags are implanted under the skin, usually behind the shoulder blade or some other very awkward place difficult to get to, and can broadcast across systems. With the hardware my suit packs, I should be able to find him anywhere within a few million miles.

I return to my sleeping captive and wonder where to put the tag. He's mostly covered in armor, which I don't know how to remove, but his head and neck are bare. I eventually decide to put it below his collarbone. His shoulders are thick and the extra mass should hide the tag well. I force the needle into his shoulder, and even in his sleep he winces and murmurs something.

"I know it hurts," I mutter sympathetically, "and I am sorry."

I push down with my thumb, holding his shoulder in place. If he moves, he will be sorry tomorrow. He grunts again. I pull the needle out of his shoulder, then bandage the wound and collect the used supplies, disposing of them. A blue dot appears on my motion sensor. Good. The tag is working. Now I can sleep in peace.

I retire to bed, instructing the computer to wake me in five hours, shed my armor, and topple into my bunk. I am asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow.


	3. Identity Crisis

The Chief woke up with a start. He sat bolt upright, then paused, still slightly dizzy. _Wait a sec…_He shook his hands. The bounty hunter had freed him while he was still asleep. That would be the last mistake that it would ever make. He stood shakily, stumbled over to the counter where his helmet rested, picked it up, and put it on. He relaxed as the polarized visor settled down over his face. _This _was what it was like to be a predator: nearly untouchable, deadly-fast and silent.

"Cortana?" He said softly.

"_Chief? Are you okay? You sound strange." _

"I'm okay. You?"

"_Chief, your vitals are down. What's wrong?"_

"Long story. Where are you?"

"_Not sure…hold on…Okay, I'm in sort of a quarters somewhere."_

"I'm coming. Just hold on. Give me a pin on your location."

A small arrow appeared on his HUD, along with a distance in meters. He made his way toward the target. It was a fairly straight shot from where he had been held captive. He found Cortana's chip resting on a set of drawers, but as he reached for it, a ripping pain shot through his shoulder. He gritted his teeth, grabbed the chip, and slid it into the back of his helmet. Cortana's cool presence flooded the back of his mind.

"Good to have you back, Cortana."

_"Good to be back, Chief. Now I think you owe me an explanation, don't you?"_

He told her the story, starting from his awakening and ending with his talk with the bounty hunter.

"_Who is this guy, Chief? Doesn't he know not to mess with you?"_

"Later, Cortana."

_"Your biological readings are still off, Chief."_

"Must be from the drugs he used on me."

_"I'm going to run a diagnostic anyway. Hold still for a second."_

The Master Chief stood stock-still. A tingling sensation ran through him, like a mild electric shock.

_"Well, you seem fine, but I detected a small inorganic mass in your shoulder. Whatever it is, it's sending out a signal too strong to block."_

"What sort of signal?"

"_Working…_ _I don't know, but the signal strength is through the roof. It's an extraordinarily specific frequency as well. It's harmless for now, but whoever's picking the signal up must be expecting they'll have to find you again at some point."_

The Master Chief shrugged, trying to appear unconcerned. "Any weapons around, Cortana?"

"_There's a small sidearm in the locked drawer. Chief, I hope you know what you're doing."_

"I always have a plan."

_"And I have to make a backup plan because your plan fails. Just be careful, okay? "_

"Always am." He slammed a fist into the drawer, breaking the lock and leaving an inch-deep dent in the metal, and pulled out a pistol-like weapon. It was a bit small for his hand.

"Cortana?"

_"It looks like it's some sort of energy weapon. Like a pulse laser."_

He stashed the gun, careful to hide it. "Give me the flight deck location."

She gave him another pin. He made for it, moving quickly and stealthily. But as the door opened onto the flight deck, a voice came from the captain's chair.

"You know I can see you. Who said you could go in my private quarters?" The chair swiveled around. The bounty hunter was seated there, at his ease, arms crossed, waiting. He was wearing his cannon again.

"I had to find Cortana. You must be used to separating people if it comes so easily."

The bounty hunter stiffened. Apparently he'd hit a nerve. "Are you implying that because I am a bounty hunter I enjoy a lot of my work? I do it because I was practically made for it. I know what will happen to a lot of those private contract bounties, but I'm good at it. I try not to think about what happens to those "retrieved" men, or else I suspect it would destroy me. Once my contacts have their bounties, they're not my business anymore." The bounty hunter gestured to the copilot's seat. "Sit down, before someone gets hurt." The bounty hunter turned away, back to the ship's controls.

Big mistake. The Chief drew the stolen weapon and fired at point-blank range into the back of the hunter's helmet. He was knocked out of the command chair and sent sprawling onto the floor, where he lay still. Master Chief moved around to the controls, keeping his weapon trained on the hunter, who didn't move. He turned to the controls, found a slot, and inserted Cortana's chip.

Something struck him like a hammer blow, knocking him backwards. His low-shield alarms began to howl in his ears. "Surprise," the bounty hunter growled, loosing another charge at him. He rolled out of the way. _Not again…_ But this time the circumstances were different. He had a weapon and Cortana now. He shot at the hunter again, and this time his opponent dodged. The shot buried itself in the side of the ship.

"And you stole my weapon. That's not very nice."

The bounty hunter seemed to be holding back because of the damage that he would do to the ship if he opened up.

"You know if you keep shooting you'll send us both to hell," he said. The two circled each other like combatants in a boxing ring. Master Chief knew his opponent was trying to make him hesitate. He didn't fall for it. He'd been taught too well. He shortened his step, feinted right, then sprang at the hunter in one impossible leap, knocking him down. The bounty hunter tried to dodge and almost succeeded. The Master Chief managed to catch him around the ankle, though, and yanked him down. His fist smashed across the side of the hunter's head, and shields crackled as the two fields slammed into each other. He threw an arm across the hunter's chest, trapping his weapon, then put the gun he'd found beneath the hunter's chin. There was a pause while both lay, one pinned underneath the other, adrenaline pounding through their veins. The bounty hunter spoke up first.

"So, you caught me. What now?"

"Give me a reason I shouldn't kill you." He pressed the weapon hard against his opponent's chin, daring him.

"You can't fly this ship without me."

"I'll figure it out. Humans learn." His finger tightened.

"Seriously, you can't. The controls are encoded in a language you don't know. Kill me and you will crash the ship."

"Cortana, is this bastard lying?"

_"I don't know. There's a firewall I can't punch through protecting the systems."_

"Why not? You broke through Covenant systems."

_"It's not like that. These are different. They're not encoded the same way. I've never seen some of these algorithms before…"_

"What are you doing in the systems?"

"Looking for answers."

"What specifically are you looking for?"

"Proof you're not a liar."

"Let me up and I'll take down the firewall for you."

The Chief's jaw muscle twitched as he thought about it. It was possible the hunter was lying. People would do anything to get out of a sticky situation, especially these dirty bounty-hunter types.

He put the weapon aside and groped for the catches on the hunter's helmet. The other man struggled, trying to stop him, but the Chief held him down. The helmet came away in his hand, revealing…a woman? The helmet fell from his hand as he looked down at her.

She was rather pretty, with blond hair and blue eyes. But there was something in her eyes that was also disconcerting, a look he'd seen in other Spartans' eyes. She'd killed before and would do it again if necessary, and that meant she was dangerous. She glared at him, furious, her jaw locked .

"Let me up."

"No."

She said something in another language. Her computer AI responded to this code.

"Self-destruct sequence initiated. Five minutes and counting."

The Master Chief swore. "Shut it down!"

"Let me up."

He swore again. "Cortana?!"

_"I'm trying, Chief! I can't stop it!"_

He snatched the pistol off the floor and jumped to his feet, keeping the weapon pointed at his opponent. "Shut it down!"

The woman stood slowly. "Lower your weapon, or we all die." She had the cool tone of someone in total control.

"Two minutes."

The Master Chief backed up, moving across the cabin, keeping the gun trained on her, then slowly lowered the weapon, though not all the way. The bounty hunter spoke in her strange language again, and again the computer responded.

"Self-destruct aborted."

"I could have activated that at any moment. And there is a sequence for instantaneous detonation. I don't really want either of us killed, though. I knew you'd make the smart choice, one-one-seven. You're a soldier, but like me, you don't want to cause unnecessary deaths."

"How do you know my designation?" He asked sharply.

"Your armor bears a nametag, 117. Or number-tag, as it were. You weren't aware of that?"

"Didn't know you read Braille."

"Maybe I don't, but my suit and ship contain an incredible amount of knowledge. This is my library. But that's beside the point. Here I am, still living, still breathing. You could have shot me at any point. Why didn't you? Because you want something. Voice your demands, soldier. I will hear them. But please, put your gun down. I have no desire to turn my own weaponry upon you."

The Chief lowered his gun from the ready position to by his side, though he was still prepared to react should the hunter try anything. She scooped her helmet off the floor, moving slowly enough to let him know she wasn't going to pull anything, then looked at it.

"Heh. Not even a scratch. That's Chozo engineering for you. Never liked wearing it on the ship anyway." She stowed it casually under one arm. "Now how do we get you home, big guy?" She asked, smirking up at the Master Chief.

She could have sworn she heard the sound of teeth grinding behind that metallic visor.


	4. Old Friends?

"Sir, we're picking up an unidentified vessel closing on our position."

"Get me contact with that ship."

"Aye, sir...Damn!"

"What is it?"

"The hailing frequencies aren't getting through!"

"Officer, I don't care what you have to do, you get me communications with that ship! They're in restricted space!"

"Vessel is hailing us. Patching it through."

A mirrored helmet appeared on the screen.

"Unidentified craft, state your purpose and content."

"This is Sierra 117. I need to speak to the commander of that ship."

"I am Admiral Plutarch, commander of the UNSC destroyer _Aries_. You are in restricted airspace. Correct your course and proceed northeast out of the area, or we will fire on your ship."

"With all due respect, sir, I can't do that."

"Explain."

"I'm not the one flying it."

The speaker moved to reveal a second figure in armor with a different design.

"Identify yourself!"

"I'm sorry, but you must be under the mistaken impression I'm a soldier. I don't have to follow your chain of command. Still, it's common courtesy to introduce oneself. My name is Samus Aran, and I own this ship. I seem to have stumbled upon one of your soldiers. Don't worry, he's not hurt, but he did want me to rendezvous with the fleet. So here I am."

"Very well, Aran. You will be escorted by Longswords to the hangar bay. If you attempt to fire upon us or leave, you will be stopped, by lethal force if necessary."

"Duly noted, but if you scratch the paint on her, I won't be pleased. Judging by the make of your ship, you go more by function than style."

With that, Aran cut the line. Plutarch drew away from the screen, seething. Something about the man just rubbed him the wrong way.

"Run voice prints on both people on that vessel. If they're lying, blow them to hell."

"And if they're not?"

"Then catch them. If they're not lying, I want to find out what Aran knows."

"Working…Sir, I have a print match on the first guy, but the files are locked."

"Dammit."

"Hold on…let me check the number tag he gave me." The officer turned, an amazed look on his face.

"What?"

"Sir…Sierra 117 is a Spartan II."

"You're kidding."

"No sir."

"Alert the pilots. I want that vessel yesterday!"

#

I lean back in the pilot's chair and put an arm behind my head, totally relaxed. The soldier notices this.

"You don't seem worried."

"Should I be? In my book, you're just another bounty to be delivered. Bounty hunters don't just go after criminals, you know, but also people who have been lost for a longtime. I'm hoping your people will maybe…compensate for expenses and let me walk away."

The soldier slams his hand down, making a dent.

"Hey!"

"This isn't a game, hunter. You're treading on thin ice, and if you fall through, you will never be seen again. The UNSC has plenty of reasons to keep you, and if they decide to, you won't get out on your own."

"You guided me directly into a trap, didn't you?"

"I had no choice. I don't like you much, hunter, I won't lie, but you fight like a spartan, and while you are disrespectful, you are honorable. Had you been caught on your own, you would have been handed over to ONI, who would torture you until they heard what they wanted. I may be your ticket out of this, but it will take some careful speech to smooth this over. "

I correct my course as two matte-black fighters buzz my gunship, sorely tempting me to open fire. I hold back, though, because of the giant silver-grey metal log looming in the distance. Even from here, the word _Ares _is clearly visible on the side. _They named it after the Greek god of war. Cute. But I bet its firepower is anything but. They wouldn't call it a destroyer for nothing. Aran, you're up to your neck in it now. Better just follow protocol until you can get away. _

The fighters circle past again, and close in on my ship, providing an escort, one in front and one to either side. My jaw twitches. I desperately want to show them exactly who they're messing with, but I clamp down on the urge. I know how the military works, especially with foreigners. One wrong move and you might as well sign your own death warrant.

My passenger, the still-unnamed soldier, leans over my shoulder.

"Sit down, dammit. If I have to pull a fast move, you're going to go flying across the cabin." _Besides, it's distracting having you leaning over me all the time. _

He wisely takes a seat in the first-mate's chair. He pauses for a second as he straps in, his hand moving involuntarily to his left shoulder, where I put the tag.

"You okay?"

"Fine," he grunts, securing his harness.

"The tag's bothering you, isn't it?"

"The _what?_"

"I put a tracker into you. So I could find you again if need be. You seem like a useful ally to have, or at least a very dangerous enemy. And if there's one thing I know about bounty hunting, it's to never turn your back on your enemies. I had to foil an assassination attempt on me once. The guy was an escaped con I'd locked up and he was out seeking revenge. Pity he never got it. Anyway, after that mess, the Federation started implanting little chips in all the partially crazy or especially dangerous criminals to watch them so that they could track them down if they escaped. That's what you have in your shoulder right now, only it's attuned to certain frequencies that only I use."

"If they find you took such liberties with me, they will tear you to pieces. They'll eventually find the signal, especially if it's as strong as Cortana says it is."

"Great. Just effing fantastic. Is there anything else you care to tell me before I get my head shot off, like who the hell _you _are and why you're so important?"

He doesn't respond.

"I'll take that as a no."

"Master Chief. I'm a Spartan."

"What, like the soldiers of ancient Sparta? The ones that began training at six? When did you start training?"

He doesn't respond to my questioning statement, instead saying,

"You'd better hold your questions until after this mess is over. "

"I _know _how to handle myself with the military."

He gives me a look as wintry as the Phendrana Drifts through his visor.

This last comment is delivered with biting cynicism, shutting out additional conversation. The great, grim form of the destroyer overshadows my gunship now, its viewport-covered side filling the entirety of the gunship's windows. The fighters escort my ship towards a slash in the destroyer's side, and the four of us settle on the deck in the midst of several squads of armed, armored marines.

"I think we've been expected." I mutter, unclipping my harness and standing.

117 grunts noncommittally, apparently finding no humor in my attempt at a joke. An uncomfortable silence settles as he fumbles with the buckle. It pops open with a click, and he strides past me, towards the hatch. He doesn't turn around as I approach, silent and tough as a stone statue.


	5. The Spider's web

Admiral Plutarch watched as the Covenant-purple ship settled on the deck and waited for its engines to stop. There were four squads of soldiers on the deck, each armed to the teeth and waiting for the command to fire should the vessel prove hostile. They tensed as there was the hiss of pressure equalizing. He'd never seen a Gen-2 Spartan in person, but the Spartan IVs were dazzlingly destructive, efficient killers. He wondered how a Spartan II would stack up against the more recent counterparts. He'd heard bits and pieces about the Spartan-2 program, but the finer details were still obscure. He knew that the scientist responsible had used six-year olds in the project, but ONI was really trying hard to keep a lid on the entire mess, despite the leak.

The admiral's breath caught as two armored creatures stepped off the ship. There was no way they were human. Both of the figures towered over even the tallest man on the deck. They were each easily seven feet, the height of the hinge-heads that had plagued the UNSC for quite some time now. One was in green-and-black armor, and the other was in garish orange-and-yellow, with some red. They stood silently for a moment, and then the first giant spoke.

"Master Chief Petty Officer 117 reporting, sir."

"You…are Spartan 117?"

The mirrored helmet looked down on him. "Yes sir."

He recognized the name. "Master Chief…I've heard of you. You…made "friends" with the Arbiter, didn't you?"

"Yes sir."

"And who's your silent friend?"

"This is Samus Aran."

The orange giant still said nothing. The cannon on its arm caught his eye. It looked like a heavy assault cannon used by Hunters.

"Picked up another alien, did you?"

"I assure you, sir, I am quite human." Samus' voice sounded metallic through his helmet. He also sounded slightly pissed.

"Then what's with the cannon?"

"Do you have a problem with it?"

"Yes, I do. It is a weapon, and as such, must be disabled or confiscated. The third option would be that my men would riddle you with bullet holes…"

"Fine. I'll disable it…for now. You know, I admire your hospitality. Such a nice welcome party for just the two of us." The sneer was evident in his voice. Admiral Plutarch gritted his teeth. _Bastard. _

"We're waiting on you right now, Aran, so move it."

"Chill, Sergeant Sunshine." Aran touched the cannon in several places, spoke something in a different language. The flowing light on the weapon faded out. "There. It's done."

"Carter, Sanchez, and Jones, take these two up to my office. You are authorized to use lethal force to stop them from leaving if necessary."

Aran let out what sounded like a derisive snort. The admiral ignored the other man, but Aran was really beginning to get on his nerves. If he didn't keep his temper in check, he would likely try to slug the armored giant, a very bad idea. He took a calming breath as he watched the two giants leaving the docking bay, escorted by the guard. He was indeed very interested to hear their story, but he had an even more interesting report to make to Lord Hood first.

The guards are uneasy, and it's pretty clear why. They are afraid of us. The fact that we could easily squash them into a pulp has not escaped them. Good. Maybe if we have to get out of here we won't have any trouble with them. They're trying really hard no to show it, but their heart rates and breathing are way up. I look around, seemingly casually, though I am really looking for a certain…Aha. There you are.

I smile behind my visor and secretly begin to eavesdrop on the admiral's conversation. He's on the comms, talking to a Lord Hood about us. My X-ray visor pierces through thick steel deck plating as though it was made of plastic film, and my IPU reconstructs words from the data gathered from their body signatures.

"…You mean to tell me Spartan 117 is still alive?"

"Yes sir. Do you have any record of a Spartan named Samus Aran? He didn't identify himself as military, but he's got powered armor with a cannon fused to it. Also, he was flying what looked like a Covenant vessel. It's in the docking bay right now."

"Search the vessel and find what you can. Pull any data out of the ship's banks."

"What should I do about 117 and Aran?"

"Debrief them and find out what they know. You have permission to detain them if necessary. I want a report by 13:00."

"Aye, sir. Will do."

"Sir?"

In "listening" to the conversation, I have forgotten that I am a guy in the guards' eyes and am startled to be addressed as such. I look down.

"Have a seat. The Admiral will be with you in a moment." With that, the guards scurry out of the room, as though they couldn't be happier to leave. The door shuts behind them and the electronic deadbolt engages. We're locked in, but I'm not worried…yet. If they want to use this room again, they'll have to let us out eventually. And by the look of it, this is someone's private office, likely the admiral's. He'll miss his leather chair, no doubt. 117 takes a seat, the chair groaning under his weight.

I activate my X-ray visor again and find the admiral. He's fairly easy to spot, even with the hundreds of people, because the soldiers keep moving aside for him. A few of them he catches by the shoulders and speaks to.

"Go up to docking bay 6E and search the vessel you find there. It looks like a Covenant ship."

_ Oh no you don't. _I flex the fingers of my left hand, back to front, and a small hologram appears.I turn external audio projectors off as I speak a rapid series of phrases in the Chozo language. I don't want 117 to catch wind of this, or anyone else for that matter. The word "accepted" flashes across the holo, and I smile. _That will keep them from getting into my ship. _

"What are you _doing?_"

"Just some business I had to take care of."

"Trying to lock them out of your ship? If you do that, they'll just cut their way through the hull."

"They wouldn't…"

He simply stares at me, letting his silence speak for itself. I stare back, surprised. The Galactic Federation sometimes will put a private vessel in lockdown for an undetermined period of time if the owner has gotten into trouble with the law, but they will never destroy a living person's ship. Unless it is dangerous, so souped-up with weapons and add-ons that it is hazardous to keep around. I stride towards the door, analyzing it for weak points, then draw back a fist. The Chief's helmet turns, tracking the motion. Puzzled, perhaps? He's the first person I've ever had trouble reading, even with mu IPU.

"Let's get out of here." But before I can deliver the blow, the door slides open, revealing the startled admiral. His eyes narrow as he takes in my fist. I quickly drop it.

"Aran, Master Chief." He acknowledges each of us with a grudging nod, then strides past me and sweeps around to settle in his leather armchair. I turn, tracking his movement, noting several heat signatures closing in fast.

"Admiral."

The man steeples his fingers on the desktop. Something's bothering him.

"I have been ordered to detain you two until you answer where you came from and what your purpose is here. Aran, you are not just a trespasser but a threat to security. Both you and your ship stay with us until you give us absolute proof you're not with the Insurrectionists."

I turn to find the doorway blocked by a double line of soldiers, all with their weapons aimed at me. They're sweating, tense, ready to fire at the slightest provocation.

_ You have got to be kidding me. _

I disengage audio and whisper the activation code for my cannon, setting it for stun shots. This is going to be fast and hard. The Master Chief stands.

"I'm sorry, sir, but I can't let you do that."

_What?_


	6. On Shaky Ground

"What?"

"It's a long story, sir, but it simplifies down to this: She's a bounty hunter from beyond the colonies. She rescued me from my damaged ship and on my request, brought me here. She did not intend a breach of security."

The admiral's scowl deepens. "Bounty hunting is strictly illegal in the UNSC. Stand down, Spartan. This arrest must be made. I'm sure ONI would particularly like to why you're flying a Covenant vessel, Aran, and why a person outside the Spartan program has MJOLNIR armor."

"As far as I can tell, sir, her armor is not MJOLNIR."

"Then what is it, Chief? Because I'm pretty sure last time I checked, the Innies didn't have enough money to develop their own powered suits, let alone one so advanced."

"Don't know, sir. Might be some Covenant tech…"

Apparently this is the wrong thing to say, because my IPU detects a spike in the other soldiers' heartbeats. The admiral slams his hand down.

"Enough, 117. You cannot protect her. Men, arrest Aran."

The soldiers are hesitant at first, and for a moment I think I won't have to do this. But then one of them moves forward. I drop him with a single shot, then fire on the rest of the squad, moving as fast as I can. Within moments, the entire squad is lying unconscious on the deck. Using my grapple, I snatch up a fallen rifle and toss it to Chief. He catches it and points it at the admiral, who is staring at the both of us, stunned.

"I'll have you court-martialed for this, Spartan." He growls, reaching for the holograms projected on the interface in front of him.

The Spartan simply tightens his finger on the trigger and motions away from the console with the rifle.

Glaring at us, he backs up.

"Hands on your head."

He raises his arms, lacing his fingers together behind his head.

"Sorry about this Admiral. I'm taking this matter directly to Lord Hood."

The admiral's breathing is heavy. He nods slowly. "All right. Okay. I get it. You're going over my head. Very well. But when he learns of this assault, he'll lock both of you up. And you, Aran, you're dead meat if I catch you."

"Not today. You should know I always have a way out, Admiral." The Chief glances at me, and I fire once. The charge catches him in the center of the chest and he collapses limply. The information from my IPU tells me the Chief tenses at this.

"He's just unconscious. He'll wake up with a headache, but he'll be fine. Come on. We have to get out of here before someone sees them and raises the alarm."

"Wait. We have to get your ship out of lockdown. It's a small personal vessel, so they probably have it in a ship's cradle. Cortana can disable the _Ares'_ weapons temporarily so that we can get out of here."

"Th-"

His visor turns towards me, and though it's mirrored so I can't see his face, I can feel his eyes like a pair of scalding embers on me. I stop short.

"Later." He disengages the magazine from the weapon he's holding. "They want us alive. Look at this." He tosses the clip to me. I look down at it and notice the ammo is different. Not bullets, but darts. My IPU identifies the chemical compound within them as a very powerful tranquilizer.

"Two of these things will put a grown man down within a minute and keep him sleeping for up to nine hours. Avoid getting shot at all costs." I toss the weapon's clip back. "Though I think it will probably be less effective on me."

The Master Chief stares at me.

"What?"

"Nothing. We've loitered too long. Let's go." He rolls one of the unconscious soldiers over and relieves him of a pistol, checking the breach. Apparently satisfied, he slings the rifle across his back and picks up another pistol.

"Why would they want us alive anyway?"

"Your suit," he responds bitterly, peering around a corner, weapons at the ready. "It's obviously more advanced than mine, and to damage it would be a mistake by ONI. They'd want to take it apart, see how it works, and replicate the design. That wouldn't bother me, but they'd also want to know how you got it. And since they would assume you were lying, the path to the acquisition of that truth would be long, slow, and nasty." He looks up and around.

"Two squads to either side. And if they're armed the same way these were," I gesture to the unconscious men, "Then we're toast." I glance around and notice a small grate in the wall. Striding over to it, I reach down and tear the grating off, exposing a pipe a little wider than a basketball. Perfect. "If I don't come back within five minutes, then something's wrong." I curl my body into an impossibly small ball and feel the Chief's gaze on me, following me until I roll out of sight

#

The Chief watched the bounty hunter leave in the strangest possible way. No living human was that flexible, even him, and especially with armor. He knew something was up when the hunter had known what the boarding squad was doing without really knowing what UNSC protocol was. Apparently her armor was even more advanced than he'd originally thought. She could be a very, very useful ally…or a deadly foe. He hadn't forgotten and didn't like what she'd done to him, implanting him with an RFID chip, but she was still practically a child, idealistic, uncorrupted by her life experience, which he was sure must have been brutal if she had taken to _bounty hunting _in her young twenties. She reminded him of Kelly: firm and tough when she needed to be, but kind under better circumstances, if a bit gruff. Maybe that was part of the reason why he didn't want her to fall into ONI's grasp. She seemed smart, if reckless, like the Spartans he'd served with those many years before. Damn it, she reminded him _too _much of a Spartan, and he was beginning to feel _responsible _for her, as he had for the other Spartans since his very earliest days working in teams with them. He had to shake that before it progressed. She was a lone bounty hunter. She could take care of herself.

But she was also naïve, unwilling to believe the UNSC would destroy her vessel. If she was going to survive in this world, she would need his help. Apparently wherever she had come from did not have the backwards military command that the UNSC had, and the UNSC were not the only threat to her. She knew squat about the Covenant and the Flood, and if she was to survive, she _had _to know. And that meant he had to go with her.

He heard quick footsteps, raised his pistols, and took a bead down the hallway, only lowering the weapons when an orange-armored figure came running. She stopped and waved at him. There was a scratchy sound within his helmet speakers, and then her voice broke through.

"_This way's clear. Let's get out of here."_

_John, _he thought to himself, _I hope you know what you're doing._


	7. Not-so Great Ecape

**If there's anyone out there still reading this: I am so sorry for the wait. There will be more soon I have not given up on you or my story!  
**

Master Chief stepped gingerly over three sleeping guards, making his way to the console. Samus followed behind, covering their backs, cannon at the ready. He had to admire the hunter's skill. She really was most agile with that rather cumbersome cannon. All the more reason to be wary of her. He figured if the hunter had wanted to betray him, she'd have done it by now. Then again, she needed him to free her ship. Maybe after he'd freed the craft she'd strike. He would have to be careful.

He pulled the chip containing Cortana from the back of his helmet.

"Ready to go to work?" He asked.

Cortana's blue image appeared. "Chief, this is _crazy! _What do you think you're doing?"

"Protecting those that need it. Our job, Cortana, remember?"

"Chief, look at what you've done! This isn't like you!" He glanced over his shoulder, in the direction that Cortana gestured. Samus had done most of the damage, but the fourth guard had taken a bullet through the forehead from his M6D. He was guilty of killing the man, he knew, but he'd killed humans before, albeit rarely.

"Cortana, I know this is different, but they were going to turn her over to ONI. You heard the exchanges. You _know _what ONI is capable of. I have to do this, Cortana. Please."

Cortana laughed coldly, a sound he'd never heard out of her before. Her form flickered red for a second, then back to blue. "And where will that leave us, Chief? You know they will hunt us to the end of the universe. And when they find us, they will destroy us. They will destroy _you_, John."

"Cortana, Just this once, I ask for your help without question. Please. We can't do this without you."

"I…" she hesitated. "All right. Just…try not to kill people, okay? It's one thing if it's Elites, but… humans are different." Her eyes begged him just as much as her voice.

"I'll do my best."

He slid the chip into the interface. Cortana's hologram appeared on the projector plate.

"Accessing Ares' data banks…Okay, I got it. It'll take some time for…ah!"

She clutched her head, her form flickering red.

"What are you doing in the databanks?! What's your authorization?" A different, disembodied voice echoed from the audio projectors.

"Cortana!"

"Chief, pull me and go! Hurry!"

Without hesitation, the Chief pulled the AI chip from the interface and shoved past an apparently impatient Aran.

"Go!" He shouted. "We have to get out of here! Now!"

Aran followed behind him, keeping pace with him as he sped through the hallways, his boots thundering. Stealth didn't matter now. Whatever Cortana was worried about was apparently bad enough to have a Spartan and his obviously augmented comrade fleeing for their lives, which spoke volumes of the unexplained threat. _But, _Chief thought, _she'd never been wrong before…_

As they ran from the terminal access, warning lights began to flash. The Chief knew this was to signal that the ship had been infiltrated and that the crew was in trouble. Any soldiers would be gathered and sent to where the intrusion was. If whoever was in command knew what was going on, he'd lock down the hangar bays. This didn't bother the Chief: he could take apart a line of soldiers with his bare hands. What bothered him was having to kill them. Cortana was right: it wasn't the same as shooting Grunts. These were men, just like him, probably had families back home. So that meant they'd have to get to the bays first.

He urged his body to go faster. If he increased his speed much more, he'd end up with serious injuries. Not surprising, since a lot of Spartans had injured themselves during the first few weeks after augmentation, unaware of their limits, but annoying nonetheless. It would likely cause problems later. To his surprise, Samus kept up with him. He made a mental note to ask her about that later, how she was able, if she was just a regular human, to do the things he could do.

It wasn't hard to find the docking bays: Cortana had projected the map on his HUD, and he knew the layout of UNSC ships like he knew his MJOLNIR armor. But as they neared it, they saw signs of preparations to stop intruders: hasty barricades, a few greenhorn marines dashing out of the way of the armored juggernauts, others tagged by Samus' projectiles and sprawling over, limp. He snatched a BR-55 that had fallen a few inches from a young marine's toes where he had dropped it to flatten himself against the wall. The guy could not have been past eighteen.

They burst into the hangar bay and were greeted by a line of veterans, all armed to the teeth and hunkered behind barricades. The Chief didn't even slow down for them, picking his targets and pulling the trigger even as the shouts to stand down came. Several men dropped, their necks punctured by well-aimed bullets. Samus was equally as accurate with her beam weapon.

The Chief leaped over the barricades, two meters up, ignoring the remaining soldiers as they tracked his flight up and over. His low-shield indicator began to whine as the live fire chipped away at it, but it hardly mattered. They were almost to the ship anyway.

The Chief ran up the ramp, taking shelter in the refuge of the ship's heavier armor. Samus dashed by him. He leaned out of the ramp, picking off individual soldiers with incapacitating shots aimed at an elbow or knee joint. The engines began to whine, and Samus shouted back at him. The hatch sealed itself as he made his way to the cockpit. She was already partway through the prelaunch sequences, her hand a blur over the controls.

"Strap in." Her voice was short, stressed. "This is going to get rough."

"Are you insane? The blast doors are still sealed!"

"Then let's make ourselves an exit."

The ship jolted off the deck, rocking slightly from the impact of the bullets.

"Shields up!" Samus barked. Chief gritted his teeth and gripped the armrests so hard he could feel the metal bending beneath his fingers. The guns on the tiny ship flared, pounding the sealed door. _There's no way…_ And then there was the _thunk _of explosive decompression, and the ship and everything else not tied down was sucked into space.

Samus punched the engines, and the ship leapt forward, through the cloud of debris, away from the _Ares_.

"Missiles locked onto us!"

The whole cabin trembled as though to shake itself apart.

"Adam! Plan an emergency jump! Now!"

"Samus, that's extremely…"

"DO IT!"

The fabric of space and time tore open.

**Thank you those that have stuck with this story! My deepest appreciation goes out to you. I should have more time to write now, so more frequent chapters. Spent 2 hours on revisions today. Hope it was worth it! Tell me what you think.  
**


	8. Eye of the Storm

I open my eyes, not realizing that I had closed them. The ship is intact, the stars serenely bright against the black vacuum of space. We survived.

"As I was trying to tell you, Samus, an emergency jump is extremely dangerous. You, as usual, didn't listen." Adam sounds miffed.

"We made it, didn't we?"

"You're lucky we didn't jump into a black hole or a star or an asteroid belt. I calculated almost a fifty percent chance of it."

"Whereas we had a 100% chance of getting blown to hell if we stayed. Now, if you don't mind, I need a damage report."

"Very well. The shields are shot and the engine's at 85% and leaking coolant. If it can't be fixed, we're going to run into trouble. The plating held against that missile, but only just. Any more damage, and we'll be dancing in zero gees."

"Ha ha, Adam. You're a real riot." I touch a hand to the side of my helmet, trying to will an oncoming headache away. "Where can we go to fix it?"

"I do my best, Lady." The comment is dry, without humor. "The best place…" he pauses, searching. "I don't know. I've no knowledge of this system."

Abruptly a green-armored hand extends, something clutched in it. I look up at the Master Chief.

"Here. This is my AI. She knows this galaxy." He places the chip gingerly on the console, but when I move to take it, he covers it.

"Be careful with her." The sentence is growled, a threat of what would happen should I damage the AI implied. With that, he surrenders the AI chip. I take it and slide it cautiously into the interface.

A blue figure appears on the holographic display plate. The figure is feminine, made of light layers formed into sheets of scrolling numbers. She appears with her back to me, arms crossed, apparently foul-tempered.

"What do you want?"

"Hello…"

"My name is Cortana. Don't pretend I'm just a piece of hardware."

I'm taken aback by this rather feisty AI. "I'm sorry, I didn't know your name."

She turns around, sneering. Her form flickers red, like it did on the _Ares, _then blue again. "Sure you are."

"Look, whatever I did to offend you, I'm sorry."

"I don't care. I'm not giving you anything."

"Cortana, behave yourself. She wants to help."

"What if I give you something in return?" I offer the AI, knowing they like knowledge.

She uncrosses her arms and looks up at me, some of the hostility vanishing. "What would it be?"

"Any data on my dimension. You name it, I'll give it to you, and you can look through it later. I'm only asking for star maps in return."

"That better not be it." The Chief speaks up. "You have a _lot _to learn about this region of space, hunter."

"Like what?"

"Ask Cortana."

Cortana focuses her attention back on me. "What do you want to know?"

"I need navigational maps, as well as hazards or hazardous areas."

And so began my education on the many nasties of this universe, from the alien species in the Covenant to the zombie-like Flood. She begins with the species themselves, describing in great detail each of the species' physical appearance, progressing through their weapons and intelligence, their capabilities, then any miscellaneous tech. Through her presentation, she shows numerous holograms, flashing each of the beasts and the approximate human abilities next to each alien. The more I see, the more uncertain I become. Most of these…Covenant…pose me no threat, not with my capabilities, but a few, namely the Elites and Hunters, could contest me. What's more, the Flood are unnervingly like the X parasites I once had the misfortune to meet, an encounter that nearly killed me. Cortana tells me that the Flood are currently dormant, all known samples having been destroyed, but that some uncertainty remains as to the monsters' genesis and origins. She wraps up her long speech, then says shortly:

"My data, if you will."

"Hold on. Giving you access… Right, here you go. It's a lot, so…"

"I'll be able to handle it. Just need some time in the system by myself."

"Okay." I stand and turn to find the Chief's gone. I didn't hear him leave. Damn, he's quiet in that armor. Nevertheless, I can always track him down, and he can't go very far. I find him standing in the kitchenette, brooding.

"Hey. You're not very talkative are you? What's up?"

I don't expect him to respond, and am not disappointed when he does not.

"Okay, I get it. You don't like me. But we don't have to be best friends in order to respect each other. Come on, tell me what's wrong."

"Leave it, Aran." His voice is low and gravelly, dangerous. I am surprised he actually used my name for once and know whatever he's hiding must be serious. I immediately back off.

"Look: I know you don't want to talk, but I want to say something. I saw what you did back on the ship and I want to say thanks. I know you're a soldier and that you're allied with those guys. I mean, at least you _were_. But I couldn't have gotten off that ship without your help. I just…just thanks."

My IPU picks up on his slight relaxation. I turn to go, trying to respect his privacy, but pause as another, irresistible question comes to me: "Why? Why help me instead of turning against me? Why not follow the admiral's orders?"

He says nothing. I turn to go, but the unexpected sound of his voice stops me.

"Because of the Spartans."

**Master Chief is hiding something that has haunted him since before the fall of Reach. What is it? Find out next chapter!**

**A/N: Let me know if you liked this chapter! I have also spent a good amount of time with reviews as well, so if you weren't liking it before, make sure you take another look-see. Questions and comments are always welcome, and thank you to fans for support!**


	9. Gold Dust

I turn around. He still has his back to me, but now seems almost tired, his shoulders slack, as though carrying an immensely heavy burden.

"Because of the…there's more of you? How many? And I never got the full story on you. I still want to know. What happened?"

"It's a long story."

"I have the time." I say stubbornly.

"Cortana can tell you."

"Why not you?"

"I don't like to talk about it." His voice is steady, but carries a wicked edge to it that cuts almost like a blade. He's suddenly tense as a coiled spring, ready to strike out. Not wanting to incite another fistfight, I put my hand up, open, and facing him.

"Okay, okay. I get it. I'll leave you alone." I back out and retire to my quarters to wait. It's something I'm very good at, seeing as I've had a lot of practice, what with all the security clearances and checkpoints I've had to get through. Not to mention the fact I'm almost constantly planet-hopping, which leaves me a _lot _of transit time. Still, it's a long wait, especially considering that my ship is the fullest it's ever been, but there's no one who wants to talk with me. Luckily, though, Adam soon breaks my boredom, his voice sounding inside my helmet.

_"Penny for your thoughts, Lady?"_

"Well, I'm stuck onboard the ship with nothing to do and a bad-tempered soldier. But considering that, I think I'm pretty well off. We didn't get shot to hell and I didn't get captured, so I think everything's pretty good considering. How about you, Adam? What do you think of Cortana now that she's sharing the system with you?

_"She's worse than your soldier. She's moody and reclusive and refuses to communicate with me."_

"You can't blame her right now, Adam. She's busy with the information we just gave her. She needs time to process. Maybe she'll warm up to you."

_"I hope so, Lady. Because it be serious trouble if she doesn't. She's inside the systems now, and can, if she wanted to, access all the ship's functions, including the necessities. We have to act cohesively if we're going to be in the same ship. I'm nowhere near a match to keep her out of the systems if she wanted to infiltrate. By the way, have you gotten a chance to scan the soldier yet?"_

"I hadn't thought about it. Why?"

_"For starters, he's abnormally tall. Even with that armor, he's heavier than he should be. There's something going on there he's not telling us."_

"He barely speaks, Adam. How am I going to get an answer out of him if he refuses to talk to me?"

_"Maybe he'll warm up to you."_

"Very funny, Adam. I doubt it. He…I can just tell he doesn't want to talk. Not to me, not to his superiors…He's just reclusive. By the way, you should take some time to process what Cortana gave you. She's doing much the same."

_"Well, I was. When were you planning to let me in on your talk?"_ Says a feminine voice, mildly annoyed.

"Cortana! This is private!"

_"Don't worry, I only just got through."_

"I thought you had better things to do!"

_"I did, but it only requires a portion of my processing power. It's very interesting, by the way. Your information, I mean."_

"It was a present, a thank-you for helping us. We couldn't have done it without you. But since you're here, would you mind clearing up some things for me, such as why the Chief helped us out? He doesn't seem like the kind of guy that would drop everything on a whim. So why did he do it? He won't talk to me, but he gave me permission to ask you."

_"Your guess is as good as mine."_

"He said you'd know. It seems the admiral and he go way back, and I'm getting the impression the encounter wasn't a good one."

_"Oh…that."_

"…Well? If I'm going to be flying around your galaxy with this guy, I kind of _need _to know."

_"Most of the files are sealed, and for good reason. The UNSC has some dirty, dirty crimes against their own people they have covered up, but their greatest and most successful was the group of soldiers called the Spartans. The Chief is the last surviving member of the Spartan-II program. He was put in charge of all the others from very early on. They only had each other to depend on in their training, so they were very close. Though he never shows it, I suspect that the other Spartans' deaths troubled the Chief. They may still trouble him. The story goes that soon after the Chief's first mission, word got out quickly among the upper echelons in the military of the Spartans' successes. The admiral requested Gold Squad for a mission to root out some entrenched Insurrectionists. They were to destroy a munitions plant on a backwater colony. They went in, intending to blow the base, planted the charges, but on their way back out ran into an ambush. Their orders were not to be captured at any cost, so they obeyed…to the letter. They destroyed the plant, taking the entire squad with them. The admiral was tried before a military court and found guilty of inadequate recon. It would seem the rebels got an anonymous warning hours before the attack and set up silent alarms all over the place. The UNSC couldn't pin the message on the admiral, but they did judge him guilty of not informing the Spartans of the degree of heavy weaponry they had. Three of them got severely wounded by sniper fire and machine gun nests before they planted the charges. The admiral, turns out, was an ODST who got too old for drops and retired to more of a command position. He was around at the end of the Spartan-I program, which claimed his brother's life, and was afraid of them taking the ODST's place. He held onto that grudge apparently, deep into the 2__nd__-generation, and as a result, seven soldiers died. He was demoted-majorly-and sentenced to serve time in the military prison. When he got out after the fall of Reach, his skills were desperately needed, so he was once again brought up through the ranks and put at the helm of the _Ares._ And now he will chase us all over the galaxy in order to find and catch us."_

"That's some story, Cortana. No wonder he hates the guy."

_"Indeed. But right now I'm more worried about your ability to keep the Chief safe."_

"Oh, don't worry about that. Bounty hunters piss plenty of people off, so learning to go dark is a quickly taught skill, and the unyielding universe is a most promising teacher. It's learn or die out here, as I'm sure you and soldier-boy know."

_"His name is _Chief. _He's not just a number and he's definitely _not _soldier-boy."_

"Fair enough."


	10. Captain's Log, 081413

Hi everyone. First and foremost, Wow. It has been quite an adventure. I had no idea my story would attract this much attention. I've taken a hiatus , looked back and surveyed my work, and made a decision.

During my hiatus, I've played through some of the Metroid Prime games, and looking back on my own tale, decided it was too lighthearted. I want to make it feel darker. Secondly, I feel the characters are too talkative. I started this story a while ago, and now I look back I feel as though the story isn't true to its roots. It took a while, but I realized that maybe I am taking things a bit far.

I am NOT, I repeat, NOT giving up on the story, but it has been docked for a major overhaul and probably won't be getting updates for a while. Hopefully I can find a few good beta readers to look each chapter over before publishing to improve PM me if you are interested.

All the best,

SBE

3D


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